Page 5. Hermit

That took place long time ago and nobody knows whether it really was. On one of the islands of the far south Sea there stood a City. The population of the City was numerous, residents occupied themselves with crafts, trade – the island was located at the crossing of the sea routes – sciences, art. The City earned the main income by selling olive oil from the vast plantations on the rock slopes, handicrafts of local weavers and wine, which was famous all over the neighborhood.

The Island’s Governor lived in the wonderful palace, crowning the high rock on the outskirts of the City. From one side there lapped the sea against the rock, from the other – the wide wooden bridge covered the deep ravine, beyond which there were city buildings.

…The sun was already setting, but on the ship at the port moorage the lading was still going on. In never-ending file slaves were carrying bulky bales and amphorae with olive oil. A little aside, on the coastal rocks, embracing his knees, there sat a golden-haired Youth of about seventeen. He was plainly-dressed: a short white tunic and leather sandals, - and only a thin golden hoop on his head betrayed the member of the tsar’s family.

The Youth was looking at the sea. “Who are you, wanderers? – He wondered turning to the rolling waves. – Where are you from? Whose envoys? What news have you brought?” He was seized with complicated feelings. He had waited for that day for a long time, not once imagined himself ascending the deck of the ship that would bring him to the continent, being greeted by the priests in the snow-white clothes and being lead to the doors of the Sanctuary. But some strange anguish prevented him from being happy with realizing of his cherished dream; some subtle presentiment alarmed his rapturous soul. Somehow it seemed that parting with his home would be longer than it was planned.

Several days ago he told his father about his dearest dream. The father kept silent for a long time, not betraying the agonizing struggle taking place in his heart by a single gesture. He loved his eldest son dearly and, though he noticed his son’s thirst for science and solitary reflections on the coast, hoped that he would become a worthy successor in the palace. But that love particularly prevented him from destroying with his own hand his son’s dream that was shared with him in the impulse of revelation. The Youth confessed that he dreamt about Initiation into the Mysteries and not just dreamt but hardened his spirit constantly in preparation for the Trials that were waiting for him in the Sanctuary. Having made sure that a childish dream of the Youth became the conscious goal, the father gave his blessing to his choice.

Could one of them foresee the terrible hurricane that would break the strong and hard-speed ship into chips, the desperate struggle for life in the storming sea on the flotsam of the mast without meal, water and hope for rescue? Could they know that as fate would will the weaken Youth would be brought up by the ship of the hostile country earning a livelihood by robbery and slave trade?

… First what the Youth felt after regaining his consciousness was pain. The back ached, the head ached, the tied up arms and legs ached, and the whole body barely covered with remnants of clothes ached. That way the new life of the Youth began – the life of a slave, who possessed nothing but the life itself that was in command of the cruel masters.

He was chained to the bench near the stern and now his horizon was limited by the hard oar and the grey old man, sitting next to him, who he could talk to at the rare free minutes. The old man turned out to be a wonderful company. Little did he talk, but when he did, it seemed as if the Eternity itself listened to his words.

…Много ли, мало прошло времени – кто знает? Огрубела от палящего солнца и бича надсмотрщика спина Юноши, морщины избороздили его лицо, золотистые волосы всё больше стали отливать серебром. Но жила в нём вера, что настанет день, распахнутся перед ним врата Святилища и люди в белых одеждах введут его в Храм Мистерий. Он успел всем сердцем полюбить своего седовласого соседа, который за эти годы совсем не изменился, только ещё больше высох, и лишь глаза, как раскалённые угли, мерцали на сморщенном лице. Чувство боли у Юноши притупилось, и недостаток воды и пищи, палящее солнце и проливной дождь, изнуряющая работа и побои охранника уже не приносили ему таких страданий, как прежде. Однако судьба приготовила ему новый удар.

Однажды, отдыхая после очередного перехода, Юноша услышал рядом громкую брань охранника. Вне себя от ярости, тот избивал одного из гребцов. В своей новой жизни Юноша научился отстраняться от чужой боли, но на этот раз не выдержал. «Оставь несчастного!» – воскликнул он. С побелевшими от бешенства глазами охранник выхватил меч и бросился на мятежника. Но, когда меч взлетел и начал опускаться, между ним и жертвой внезапно выросла белая безмолвная фигура с горящими глазами. Удержать удар было уже невозможно. Заливая палубу кровью, Старик упал, успев только прошептать: «Прощай, сынок!» Уже приняла вода безжизненное тело, а Юноша всё ещё не мог поверить в свершившееся, держа в памяти пылающий взгляд Старца и его глуховатый голос. Боги сжалились над Юношей, и он потерял сознание прежде, чем ему вырвали язык и бросили лицом вниз на пустынном берегу.

…Years passed. The Island’s residents got accustomed to the old dumb Hermit, who lived far from the City, ate whatever he could find, and who was looking at the sea for hours. When his glance stopped at the beautiful palace crowning the high rock, his eyes darkened; and deep wrinkles on his exhausted forehead got even deeper. And when one fine day the Hermit did not come to the seaside, nobody grieved or fell a tear. And the Hermit lay in his cave talking to the strange Old man in the unendurably white clothes, with bright shining eyes.

“Teacher, for all my life I have dreamt about the Initiation, I have not left hope of entering the Sanctuary till the last day, but now, on the threshold of Eternity, I am calm. You cannot insert a big sword into a small sheath; the great wisdom is dangerous for an unprepared one. I am grateful to Gods for preventing me from ordeals of Mysteries; they knew that I was not ready yet. But I have realized that just a dream about Initiation may show the way like a guiding star for all your life and won’t let you fall into the abyss of fear and despair.”

“Dear friend and Brother, why do you think that sacrament of Mysteries always takes place in temples? Why do you consider that high Initiation is impossible outside the Sanctuary? Look back at your life. You say, that you were not ready for ordeals; but has not all your life been the sheer Ordeal? Could not you stop your sufferings any moment by revealing your name to the tormentors? You have chosen another way, realizing that your father won’t spare anything for the sake of his son’s life-saving. And Gods, knowing the inflexibility of your Spirit, let you go the way of silence and solitude.

You wanted to become Twice Born, but did not you die twice when the sea crashed your ship and when I took the blow destined for you upon myself? Did not your heart cry with blood when paying the last tribute to me, you got rigid with speechless prayer, and your soul yearned to jump into the deep that had taken up the body of the man who had become closer to you than your own father?

You dreamt about knowing the secret meaning of numbers and formulas, but did not you cognize the main Formula of the Initiation – that the Wisdom, you longed for, is equal to Knowledge, that wide open heart absorbs from everywhere, multiplied by the Great Love that lives in this heart? Be able to find the High in the ordinariness of every day – and every day will become the Initiation for you. Be able to rejoice at difficulties – and each obstacle will become just a new stage of your Ascent. Live with constant prayer – and you will open the happiness of persistent communication with God. And your Spirit will flare up like ever-burning flame, and you will go to people released, and will bring them your love, as there is no need to look for sources of Light for those who has Light inside.

You worry, that there has left not much time for you and you won’t be able to give people what has been revealed for you now. But everyone has his own Way and his own life task. Many of My Brothers are bearing sparkles of Light from our Single Flame for people. It was important for you to awake this Flame inside – you have reached this through Mysteries of hard work, silence and solitude. Now you should go where your help is needed. Good Bye and hello, my lifelong Brother!”

With these words Old Man bent to the Hermit, kissed his forehead and crumbled to violet sparkles. The Hermit’s body gave a start, straightened and got calm, imprinting the expression of the unearthly happiness on his exhausted motionless face – the happiness of the man, who has done his duty properly.